


five states, six calls, no emo allowed

by Medie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-22
Updated: 2010-02-22
Packaged: 2017-10-07 11:39:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/64807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medie/pseuds/Medie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>five states total and she's really pissed off.</p>
            </blockquote>





	five states, six calls, no emo allowed

**Author's Note:**

> wrote it for [](http://scrollgirl.livejournal.com/profile)[**scrollgirl**](http://scrollgirl.livejournal.com/) in the porn meme. Damn me and my inability to porn without plot. spoilers for_ "Born Under A Bad Sign"_

*

She's two states over and her phone's rung three times before Jo stops shuddering. It was Sam, she knows that, but it _wasn't_ and that means what? Demon maybe. He's a Winchester, and he's _Sam_ and that means...

"Yeah," she nods and tells herself, "demon."

*

She's three states and five unanswered calls before she admits to herself why she's _really_ screwed up about this.

She turns off the phone.

*

Jo grew up around hunters, she knows what to do. Half the men and women out huntin' have taught her a thing or two. She knows how to throw a punch, twist out of a choke hold, she _knows_ what to do, goddamn it and she didn't do it...

It was _Sam_ and that's the hard part.

Not like that, but she does want it.

*

Five states total; she's very drunk and very pissed. She turns the phone on and smirks when it rings. It's Dean's number. She knows better.

"Give it a rest, Sammy," she slurs into her cell and hangs up.

*

He's at her door, and she's _pissed off_. The look on his face is just…She scowls.

"You know, you're hotter when you're possessed." She snaps, slamming the door in his face.

*

She's got another job at a bar, its closing and he shows up with that damn look in his eyes.

"Don't fucking apologize," she grumbles. "It's stupid."

Sam shrinks into his coat; it's difficult not to picture him the other way. "Jo…"

She shakes her head, walks away. "It takes a demon possession to loosen you up, Sam. You should probably be worried about that."

He follows tentatively. "I remember some of it, oh _god_, I'm…"

She slams a beer bottle down on the bar and turns to face him, "Oh for god's sake, Sam!" Tangling a hand in his shirt, she pulls him down and kisses him. "Shut up, will ya?"

*

God, he's tall. Redwoods are shorter than Sam Winchester. She backs him into a booth and pushes him down. "Stay there," she tells him, hauling her shirt over her head. Sam obeys, slack-jawed. "We don't have a lot of time and if you wanna make it up to me?" She crawls onto his lap, grins at the fact he's already hard and grinds herself down. He groans, eyes slamming shut.

She laughs. Guys are so _easy_.

Layers are the name of Sam's game and it takes her a minute to reach flesh, grumbling the whole damn way. He hasn't got those problems and she grunts when big hands cup her ass and his mouth finds her chest. Sam mouths a nipple through her bra, she rocks harder.

He lifts her up, working jeans and underwear out of the way and she's grinding herself down on denim, pressure where she needs it until his fingers find her clit.

"Oh shit, _Sam_," she breathes, grabbing for him.

He grins against her skin, teeth scoring over a now bare breast and she does _not_ whimper. "Make it up to you, huh?" He murmurs and oh, god his voice. Sam Winchester doesn't sound like that ever, not even then, and she knows who he sounds like but she won't say it. Won't think it. She just lets it wash over her and then he works a finger inside, exploring and she's shaking, coming, and son of a bitch he's good at this.

She presses her face against his neck, tastes sweat and _Sam_. He moves, fumbles, she hears a zipper and a rip. She's ready when he lifts her up except she's so not because oh _god_. Jo maybe babbles a little when he slides in because, oh god, he really _is_ just that huge and she's moving even before he's in.

Sam chuckles into her skin and she's squirming, rocking, and moving with him and he's lifting her and she thinks her head's going to fall off. She curses and shakes, and Sam does _something_, she doesn't care what because she's actually screaming and who does _that_ really?!

Her nails dig into his shoulders and she grinds herself down when he cries out, pushes up, and she's not going to be able to walk for a week after this.

*

Jo Harvelle's life's never exactly been a Hallmark moment, but she's pretty sure this takes the cake. She just fucked Sam Winchester silly in a bar, and yeah, he totally made it up to her.

She palms the charm and tilts her head. "Bobby?"

He nods, lazy. "Just in case."

"Should've thought of that before," she mutters dark, pushing down the thought. He frowns and she shakes her head. "Forget it." Jo kisses him again then it hits her. Oh my _god_.

She jerks away, leaving him stupid-eyed. "Where's Dean?"

Sam blinks. "Oops."


End file.
